


Without Trace

by TiffanyF



Category: CSI: Miami, CSI: NY, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)
Genre: Dark, Vampires, ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:48:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/669928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiffanyF/pseuds/TiffanyF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Horatio is shot at the airport, he vanishes and strange things start happening in Miami and New York. Calleigh goes to Mac for help, and then things get even stranger. AU, OOC, dark. I don't own them and don't make anything from these.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Sherlock Holmes's habit of vanishing without trace, as Watson reports. :-)

Detective Mac Taylor stared at the woman in front of him. “Do you want to run that past me again?” he asked, in what he hoped was a calm voice. “Because as far as I’m aware that’s absolutely impossible.”

“I swear it’s absolutely true, Mac,” Calleigh Duquesne said. “Horatio is gone and it’s like he was never here.”

“Start at the beginning.”

“We got a call that Horatio had been shot at an air strip and by the time I arrived, the body had already gone to the morgue,” Calleigh said. “It was Horatio’s blood on the tarmac, his belongings on the ground, but something just wasn’t right. Eric went to talk with the ME and the man had no idea what Eric wanted. He didn’t even know who Horatio was. When Eric got back from the morgue, it was like his mind had been erased; he didn’t remember Horatio either. Now no one but me does, there’s no trace of Horatio Caine in any computer, any record anywhere. It’s like I made him up, Mac.”

“What this really sounds like is witness protection kicking in,” Mac said. “But I can’t imagine why Horatio would need to go into the program. How can I help you out, Calleigh?”

“All I’m hitting in Miami is dead ends because of how thoroughly everyone’s forgotten him,” Calleigh said. “And not even the federal government can erase peoples’ minds. I just want to know what happened to Horatio.”

Mac nodded. “I’ve got some contacts and a few favors I can call in,” he said. “I’ll see what I can do, but I don’t want to get your hopes up. It sounds like Horatio, or whoever has him, really covered his tracks. This could take time with a lot of frustrating dead ends for both of us.”

“I know, but it’ll make me feel better to know that we’re doing something,” Calleigh said. “Thanks for your help, Mac.”

“You’re welcome, Calleigh,” he smiled. “I just hope I can actually find something out for you.”

“Me too.”


	2. Chapter 2

In-between active cases, Mac called everyone he could think of, tried every possible source for information and came up completely empty. There was no record anywhere that Horatio Caine had ever been alive, ever lived in New York or Miami, had ever been a cop. What fascinated Mac more than anything was that, after Calleigh left, his team seemed to forget Horatio as well. Mac wasn’t sure if it was mass hypnosis or mass amnesia, but it made him really uncomfortable. Why could he and Calleigh still remember Horatio when no one else could?

And then it happened.

Even though Mac was expecting it, he felt alone and disheartened when Calleigh forgot Horatio too. Mac wasn’t sure why his memories of the red head stayed so strong, so vivid, but he lived in fear of the day that they might vanish as well.

He’d been in love with Horatio Caine from the moment he’d looked up and seen the red head standing in one of his crime scenes, sunlight making him glow. At the time, Mac had thought it was deliberate, that Horatio had posed there where he knew he’d have the best lighting, but later realized that Horatio had no clue what he’d done, how he could use his surroundings to make him all the more attractive. There were times when Mac thought that Horatio might return his feelings, might feel something for him too, but nothing ever came of it. They had just remained friends.

There were times when Mac thought that his love for Horatio was what kept all him memories locked so tightly in his mind. They were his memories and nothing; no one was going to take them away without one hell of a fight. Mac was a Marine, he knew how to fight. He still didn’t know what was going on, but he was going to find out. No one just vanished without a trace. It was a physical impossibility.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the strangest case Mac ever worked. Three young women, two young men, a horse and a dog all dead at the same hand within a span of a couple of weeks. The human victims made no sense and the animals even less. Mac realized that meant the animal victims were a negative sense factor in the case, and that probably meant he needed a vacation if he was even thinking things like that. Mac liked dogs and horses and hated to see animals victimized as much, if not more, than seeing humans harmed.

The killer, when they finally caught him, was insane. He’d been hearing voices that told him to kill – two of which came from the horse and the dog – which explained why two human victims were found near the dead animals; the man had tried to kill his tormentors. It hadn’t worked, and he was taken to a state hospital for treatment.

And Mac took a vacation.

He wasn’t sure if it was the most recent case, the Horatio Caine disappearance mystery, stress, or a combination but he just wanted to get away from New York for a while. Hell, he wanted to get out of the states for a while, go somewhere there was little to no chance anyone would know him, or be able to track him down. He wouldn’t even tell Stella where he was going. He just wanted to be alone.

Ironically enough he chose London, England to hide. Mac knew Peyton had moved north not long after breaking up with him and he figured a city that large was a good place to be alone and safely anonymous.

The first few days of his visit were spent at the British Museum, Natural History Museum and a long stroll through Hyde Park. Mac decided on a whim to go to Baker Street and see the Sherlock Holmes Museum and also the zoo on his sixth day, and went into the Globe pub for supper when he was done. The lower level was only moderately full and, as Mac made his way to the bar to order, he felt his mouth go dry.

His eyes fixed on a figure standing at the bar, red hair as perfect and shiny as Mac remembered, shoulders a little hunched but still very distinctive. He swallowed hard a few times and walked over. “Hello, Lieutenant Caine.”

Blue eyes turned his way and, for a moment, Mac thought he saw surprise deep in their wonderful depth. But it was so fleeting that he could have imagined it as warmth filled the eyes. “Detective Mac Taylor,” Horatio said softly. “What brings you to London?”

“I needed a vacation before I went even crazier that I was feeling,” Mac replied with a wry grin. “What about you, H; this is the last place I expected to find you.”

“I’m visiting family,” Horatio said. “I’m actually heading home tonight.”

“Back to Miami?” Mac asked before he could stop himself. He wasn’t sure how, or even if he should bring up what had happened with Calleigh and the others. He had to admit it sounded more than a little crazy and, as he really wasn’t sure what was going on, didn’t know how to bring up the subject without sounding nuts.

“No, my home here,” Horatio said. “Why don’t you come with me for a couple of days, Mac? I’m outside the city in a nice area that you’ll probably find more relaxing that the city.”

That was all news to Mac, but he had to admit that spending time alone with Horatio in the country sounded nice. “I don’t have any spare clothes with me, everything is at the hotel.”

“We can go pick some things up,” Horatio smiled. “I’d be a little concerned if you were carrying clothes around London with you. Do you want to eat first or wait? My staff will have a meal waiting.”

“I don’t want to waste food,” Mac said. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Then let’s go.”  
********************

Horatio was driving a black sports car that was as unlike him as anything Mac could have imagined. And he drove through the evening traffic with an ease that spoke of practice and familiarity. “What’s going on, Horatio?” he finally asked. “I understand the need to keep secrets, but there’s something just not right about all of this.”

“What do you mean, Mac?” Horatio asked in reply. They’d left the heart of London behind and were heading northwest, according to Horatio. He’d warned that it was a bit of a drive to his house.

“I’m still trying to figure that out,” Mac said. “Look, Calleigh came to see me months ago asking for my help because you’d been shot and vanished. Then everyone started forgetting you until I’m the only one left who seems to remember anything about you.”

Horatio grinned. “That sounds like a case a CSI just wouldn’t be able to turn down no matter what.”

“Maybe I’m just having a nervous breakdown and imagined everything,” Mac sighed rubbing his face. “It’s impossible for everyone to forget someone and for all their personal information to just up and vanish without a trace too.”

“But everyone didn’t forget,” Horatio said. “You still remember me.”

“And I still haven’t been able to figure out why,” Mac said. “That’s probably at least part of the reason I came to London like I did, it’s just been driving me crazy because I can’t figure it out.”

“You’re not crazy, Mac.” Horatio reached over and rested a hand on Mac’s right knee. “I’m here, I’m real and I’m not going to vanish.”

“So how do you explain the fact that all your information is gone?” Mac could feel his heart speed up from the simple warm touch to his leg and tried not to fidget around and let Horatio know exactly how much that simple touch affected him. “You have to admit that’s a little strange, H.”

“Is it possible Calleigh and the others are playing a joke on you?” Horatio asked. He turned onto a long driveway.

“If they are, it’s a good one because they managed to completely erase all traces of you from the national databases. I couldn’t even find a birth certificate or social for you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Mac.” Horatio turned a corner and Mac gasped. It wasn’t a house in front of them; it was a mansion complete with grounds. Mac wasn’t really that great at estimating the age of buildings, but it had to be a least a couple of hundred years old.

“Horatio, this is amazing,” Mac said.

“I’m glad you approve,” Horatio smiled. He left the car running in front of the stairs and got out to get Mac’s bag. “Come on in and I’ll give you the grand tour.”

“The car?”

“Tommy will park it,” Horatio replied easily. “I have a staff of fifteen here, Mac, so ask if you need anything, okay?”

“From the look of the house, a map would be nice,” Mac grinned following Horatio up the stairs. “It’s either that or I’ll leave a trail of breadcrumbs.”

Horatio laughed. “It’s really not as bad as it looks, Mac,” he promised. “I’ve got one wing complete sealed off, the west, and my personal servant and I are the only ones who live in the east wing. Everyone else is at the back of the house in the servants’ quarters.”

“I just can’t wrap my head around it,” Mac said. He followed Horatio into the entry hall where a maid was waiting to take their things.

“This is Mac Taylor,” Horatio said to the young woman. “Please see that his things go to the blue room.”

She curtsied. “Very good, sir.”

“Wrap your head around what, Mac?” Horatio asked once they were alone.

“You, this house, servants,” Mac replied. “It’s so completely different from what I saw in Miami, that it’s like you’re two different people. I wish I could figure all this out.”

“Don’t stress yourself too much, Mac,” Horatio commented as he started up the stairs to the left. “You’ll make yourself sick and that’s what you’re here to prevent. Now, let me show you to your room and then we can go eat.”

“You’re sure I’m not going to get lost?”

“I’ve put you one room down from mine so, even if you do, I’ll be behind you and will find you again.” Horatio pointed to a closed door. “That’s John’s room; he’s my valet and companion; my room, and yours.”

The room was lavish; there really was no other word for it. The wallpaper was sky blue offset by dark wood wainscoting broken only by a large fireplace across from the windows. While the dark wood floor was mostly bare, several blue accent rugs dotted the area around the bed and almost made a trail to the adjoining bathroom. The bed was a large four-poster with midnight blue and black hangings matching the bedclothes, and more pillows than Mac knew what to do with.

“You can’t see it now, but the windows overlook the grounds,” Horatio said as he drew the dark curtains. 

“H, this is beyond anything I could have imagined,” Mac replied. “Is the whole house this lavish?”

“I don’t think so, but I’m used to it, so you’ll have to let me know.” Horatio stepped in close to Mac and stared down into suddenly wide eyes. “I wondered it I would still see it in your eyes, Mac.”

“What?” Mac asked feeling breathless.

“Desire, yearning, want, lust, need.”

“You knew?”

“No, Mac, I know.” Horatio closed the distance between them and tilted his head at the last second as his lips sealed over Mac’s.

Mac’s eyes fluttered closed and he leaned into the kiss, arms pulling Horatio in as close as possible. He could tell by the press of lips against his own that there was no question about who was going to be in control the rest of the night and Mac realized there was something he really needed to tell his new lover. “H,” he whispered against the red head’s mouth.

“I know, Mac,” Horatio said slipping a hand under Mac’s black t-shirt. “Just relax and trust me, and everything will be fine.”

How did Horatio know that Mac had never been with another man? Mac didn’t think he was shaking or acting nervous, so how did Horatio know? The question flew out of Mac’s mind as Horatio’s mouth latched onto the underside of his jaw and started sucking. His hands latched onto the almost black dress shirt Horatio was wearing, and he fought to keep his knees from buckling.

Horatio pulled back long enough to strip off Mac’s shirt and then latched onto his lover’s neck as he moved them back towards the bed. Mac’s heart sped up and he swallowed hard, both excited and nervous. He’d dreamed about being with Horatio for years, and he never dreamed the gentle Lieutenant would be so fierce. It was kind of exciting.

They fell on the bed in a tangle, Mac struggling to get Horatio’s shirt off when the red head pulled back. Mac watched as Horatio visibly collected himself and reached out, cupping his new lover’s cheek. “What’s wrong, Horatio?”

“Your first time should be gentle,” Horatio replied. He smiled down at Mac. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have lost control like that.”

“I kinda liked it,” Mac admitted, flushing red.

Horatio chuckled. “Good to know, but if I don’t keep some control I could hurt you and I don’t want to do that,” he said. “When you’re a little more used to things, then we’ll be wild.”

Mac finally managed to finish undoing Horatio’s shirt and slipped his hands inside seeking out skin. “Is there going to be more than tonight?”

“As many nights as you want, Mac,” Horatio smiled. He reluctantly pulled away from his lover’s touch and set about stripping them both. He knelt for a moment and gazed at his new lover. “So delicious, Mac; I can’t wait to taste every last inch of you.”

Mac shivered at Horatio’s words and the press of skin as the red head stretched out over him. Mac opened his mouth as Horatio leaned in and moaned as lips pressed over his and a tongue slid back into his mouth like it belonged there. Horatio shifted until Mac’s legs opened for him and he was able to settle that much closer to his lover. Mac moaned in his throat as Horatio’s erection brushed against his own and thrust up, trying to get the red head to move a little faster.

Horatio reached up under a pillow and grabbed the lube stashed there. Mac had a brief moment to wonder why Horatio would have lube stashed so conveniently in his guest rooms before the mouth tormenting his own broke away and started down his neck to his chest. Mac knew he was going to have some marks in the morning, if the way his lover was sucking on his neck was any indication, but realized he really didn’t care. He just wanted more of the sensations shooting through him and started to push up, thrusting against Horatio.

“Soon, Mac,” Horatio whispered as he slid down Mac’s body. As much as he wanted to taste his lover, he knew that Mac was too on edge, that a single lick from Horatio might push him over the edge. And Horatio needed Mac to climax on his cock, not before. He flipped open the lube and coated a finger, leaning in to kiss Mac as he pushed into his lover’s body.

Mac spasmed but held still and forced himself to relax as Horatio started moving. It was an unusual sensation and burned when Horatio added a finger to start spreading the lube. Mac wished that Horatio would do more than kiss him as he stretched him open, but didn’t want to complain. The feel of Horatio’s mouth against his own was electric and Mac really didn’t want to lose it any time soon.

“Here we go, Mac,” Horatio said. “Look at me.”

Mac looked up into the deep blue gaze and couldn’t look away. It was like he was floating and he only felt a slight stretch as Horatio pushed into him, pleasure sparking along his nerve endings. Mac moaned and pushed back, trying to pull Horatio deeper. The red head leaned in to kiss Mac as he pulled back a little and thrust forward sharply, reburying himself in Mac’s body. Mac wrapped around his lover and tried to move with him, pushing up as Horatio thrust forward. He could feel the tension building in his stomach, curling tighter until Horatio bit his neck. Mac’s climax exploded from him and everything went black.


	4. Chapter 4

Mac wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. He could hear two voices talking near him, even if their conversation didn’t make much sense, but he couldn’t open his eyes; couldn’t wait.

“So, this is him?”

“Yes, this is he.”

“And you say he somehow managed to overcome what you did and still remembers Horatio Caine clearly?”

“I’m as surprised as you. That spell takes a lot of time and power and has never failed before. I wish I knew why he remembers Horatio still.”

“What are you going to do now? Surely you don’t mean to let him return him. Can you recast the spell?”

“I might be able to; it would be only two cities this time rather than three. Can you keep him asleep until my return?”

“Easily, although you’ll need to hurry. It’s possible that having the spell cast a second time might make him ill. I need you here to counter that.”

“He won’t be involved this time and, as he was unaffected the last time, I find it extremely hard to believe he’ll feel the mere bleed over this time.”

“Still.”

“True; I’ve never attempted anything like this before and don’t know what will happen. I’ll set the spell up and time delay so I’ll be here when it activates.”

“At least the time asleep will allow his neck to heal. You bit him deeply.”

“I lost control; he’s a natural and I forgot it was his first time. My glamour failed at the end.”

“Good heavens!”

“He was already unconscious and saw nothing.”

“It’s still a danger. What if it fails whilst he’s awake? That could be a disaster.”

There was the sound of a soft, deep kiss. “Do you not want him here?”

“I wish you happy.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I realize this is not a passing fancy, that he will be in your bed a long time. The question is, how long?”

“I think once you have a taste of him you won’t object to his presence in bed, my dear.”

“Can you convince him to allow us both in his bed?”

“I believe so. And, if he could throw my spell, who knows what else will be possible. We should experiment.”

“There you go again; humans are not fodder for your experiments. Do remember what happened the last time.”

“Yes, yes that was quite a mess.” Another deep kiss. “Watch over him. I shall return soon.”

“As always.”


	5. Chapter 5

When Mac woke up the next morning he realized two things; he was not nearly as sore as he’d thought he’d be and he wasn’t alone in bed. There was an arm draped over his stomach and the sensation or a lot of naked skin along his side. He felt like there was something he should remember, something extremely important, but he couldn’t think of it. All he could really focus on was the blinding pleasure he’d felt the night before. It was almost as if he could still feel faint aftershocks flooding through him, and it was unlike anything he’d felt before.

“Good morning, Mac,” Horatio said as he pressed a kiss to Mac’s neck. “How do you feel?”

“My neck hurts,” Mac said with a wry grin.

Horatio ducked his head with a smile. “I am sorry about that, Mac, but I lost control at the end and I have a thing for necks.”

“I don’t mind wearing a few marks,” Mac said. He stretched. “I feel like I’ve been asleep for days, Horatio.”

“Maybe you just needed a really good night’s sleep,” Horatio replied. “I’ve got some personal business to take care of this morning, but I’ll be free in the afternoon. Why don’t I show you to the library after we eat and you can relax in there?”

“Sounds good to me,” Mac said. “I should really call Stella for an update, or do you have cell service out here?”

“We do.”

“Then I won’t worry about it,” Mac said. “Did you say something about breakfast?”  
********************

The rest of the house was just as lavish and luxurious as Mac’s bedroom. He could see the door to the west wing, a door that looked newer than the rest of the house. The dining room was huge and looked more proper for state dinners, so he wasn’t surprised to learn there was a breakfast area in the solarium.

“John,” Horatio said to the man seated at the small table, “this is my friend Mac Taylor. Mac, my companion, John.”

The man behind the Times was younger than both Mac and Horatio, roughly in his 30s with short brown hair, a brown mustache and coffee eyes. His skin was tan and he was dressed casually in a white polo and black slacks. “Nice to meet you, Mac,” he said with a warm smile. “Horatio, your brother called earlier and was quite insistent you call him back the moment you awoke.”

Horatio sighed. “Have my breakfast sent to my office please, John; I’d better see what he needs.”

Mac was really confused. He sat down across from John and picked up a piece of toast. As far as he knew, Horatio’s brother had been murdered in Brazil a couple of years ago, so how could he be making phone calls? And, Mac was forced to admit, John’s voice sounded really familiar, but he couldn’t place it no matter how hard he tried.

“Coffee?” John asked holding up a silver pot. “The rest of the meal will be here shortly.”

“Yes, thank you,” Mac replied. “I’m sorry to have slept so late and delayed your meal.”

“You didn’t, so please think nothing more of it,” John smiled. “We rarely eat before ten in the morning, so this is perfect. What is it you do for a living?”

“I’m a CSI like Horatio,” Mac said. “I head the New York City crime lab.”

“I’ve heard Horatio talk about a couple of cases with New York,” John said. “So you must be the man he was talking about. I don’t really understand science myself. I can keep up when Horatio is talking about what happened once the case is over, but until it is, I’m completely lost.”

Mac tried not to frown. “Were you with Horatio in Miami?” he asked.

“No, I remained here to manage the estate,” John replied easily. “We spoke often on the phone.”

“You must be really good friends if he trusts you with that much responsibility.”

“We’ve known each other since college,” John said. “Ah, breakfast.”

It just wouldn’t add up for Mac. Every single thing he’d heard since Calleigh first showed up talking about how Horatio vanished without a trace only served to confuse Mac more. He needed to write things down and see if he could link them up, like he would if he was working a case.

“Is there some notepaper in the library I could use?” Mac asked as he spread butter on his second piece of toast. “I didn’t bring my computer and I’d like to write a couple of letters.”

“Of course,” John replied. “I’ll show you there after we eat. If you need anything else, if I’m not around, just ring for a servant.”

Mac smiled. “Thanks.”  
********************

The library was huge, two floors of books with its own staircase between levels. Near the fireplace was a desk and chair, which was where John left Mac after a quick tour through the books. Mac was amazed. He thought he could spend years in the library and never be bored. But he also knew he didn’t have years and settled down at the desk with the notepad and pen.

Calleigh told Mac that Horatio was shot but his body was missing by the time his team arrived. There was only a blood pool, and Mac knew that was easily explained away. For some reason, known only to him, Horatio wanted or needed to fake his own death and vanish from Miami. What it didn’t explain was the amnesia his team, and later Mac’s team, suffered regarding the red head – or how Horatio’s personal information all vanished as well.

Horatio had been in a pub in London and Mac still wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the moment, the second of surprise in Horatio’s eyes when Mac appeared. If it had been there, Mac could understand Horatio wondering why Mac was in London in the first place, but given everything that had happened before Mac left the states, it was possible that Horatio was just as surprised to be remembered. While Mac still had no clue what happened to his friends to make them all forget Horatio, he was equally positive the red head did know and wasn’t going to tell.

Then there was the question about all the links to England. The house and servants, which spoke of an old established family and Horatio had absolutely no trace of an English accent. As far as Mac knew, Horatio was born and raised in New York City and yet John mentioned that he’d known Horatio since college. Now Mac was more than willing to admit that it was entirely possible John was in the states for school, but he really doubted it. There was just something about the Englishman that screamed he’d never left England.

“That’s not entirely true, Mac,” Horatio said softly from behind him. “John spent the entirety of his military career in Afghanistan.”

“Horatio!” Mac exclaimed trying not to jump. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I could tell,” Horatio smiled. “I wonder what it is about me that makes my friends want to write lists about me.”

“You do have to admit, H, that there’s something really strange about all of this,” Mac said. He folded up his notes and stuck them in his pocket. “I didn’t realize it was so late. Did you get everything taken care of?”

“I did,” Horatio said. “Would you like to see the grounds?”

“Sure,” Mac agreed readily. “Do you have a large garden to go along with the house?”

Horatio smiled. “It’s not really large, but there is a garden and pond on the grounds along with several acres of woodlands before you reach the farms attached to the house.”

“I feel like I’ve stepped back in time,” Mac commented stepping out onto the lawn. “Everything about this place seems unreal.”

Horatio reached over and took Mac’s hand. “I told you, Mac, I’m real and I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “Besides, the house has electricity and indoor plumbing. Do you really think a fantasy creation would have those?”

“Probably not,” Mac agreed laughing, “but it would have the mysterious handsome prince who swept the romantic lead of his or her feet.”

“His or her?”

“Depending on the story you’re reading.”

“Makes sense, I think.”

“None of this really makes sense,” Mac sighed. “That’s what I was working on in the library. I was trying to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

The red head stopped and looked closely at Mac. “What did you figure out?” he finally asked.

“That you have a secret and I shouldn’t pry,” Mac replied. “Even though I really want to. I am a CSI after all.”

“True, thank you for respecting my privacy in this, Mac,” Horatio said. “We’re together and that’s all that matters to me.”

“What happens when I have to go home?”

“Do you really want to?”

“What do you mean?” Mac was puzzled. He didn’t know how or why Horatio had just walked away from his lab and everything in Miami, but he surely didn’t expect Mac to just do the same thing.

“Do you really want to go back to New York?” Horatio asked.

“Horatio, I’m head of the crime lab,” Mac said. “Even if I wanted to stay here with you, I have responsibilities at home.”

There was a fleeting look on Horatio’s face, one Mac couldn’t identify as his lover turned and gazed out over the grounds. “What if there was a way for you to stay here, Mac?”

“And not just abandon everything in New York?”

“Leaving behind no responsibilities hanging or people in trouble.” Horatio pulled Mac in against him and claimed his lips fiercely. Mac moaned, his arms wrapping around Horatio’s neck as their bodies molded together. He found it such a turn on when Horatio was fierce and dominant, and wondered exactly how he could tell his new lover.

“Want you now, Mac,” Horatio murmured. He took his lover carefully to the ground and straddled his hips.

“Can anyone see us?” Mac arched up as Horatio’s hands slid up under his t-shirt.

“No, this part of the garden is mine alone,” Horatio replied. He pushed off Mac’s shirt and bent down, latching onto Mac’s right nipple as he ground down against his lover’s still trapped erection making Mac cry out. Horatio was close to losing control; he could feel it rising up in him and knew he wasn’t going to have the patience to prepare his lover properly.

“Look at me, Mac,” he ordered in a soft yet powerful voice.

Mac’s eyes met Horatio’s of their own accord and he found himself drowning in the blue depths. Horatio’s eyes were so deep, so blue, so wonderful to look at that he couldn’t look away. At least not until pain spiked through his body when Horatio’s erection plunged home in a single thrust. Mac screamed and clung to his lover as Horatio started moving, thrusting hard into his lover’s body.

“Mac, look at me,” Horatio panted as he thrust. He wasn’t going to last long, not with the tight heat wrapped so perfectly around his cock, but he needed Mac to climax as well.

Pain-filled gray eyes met lust blown blue and Mac started to feel the pain receding, pleasure starting to spark as Horatio found his prostate. Then something happened that Mac couldn’t explain, but it was almost as if all the pain was suddenly sucked out of him and replaced with blinding pleasure. Blood surged back to his cock, making him so erect so fast that it would have hurt if not for his orgasm ripping through him. Mac felt one last sharp pain and then passed out.


	6. Chapter 6

Mac could hear the voices talking over him, knew it wasn’t a dream, but couldn’t wake up to see who was in his room. A part of him knew he should hurt, should be in a lot of pain for some reason, but he wasn’t and he couldn’t remember why. As he started to sink back into the darkness, he vaguely placed one of the voices as John, Horatio’s companion, but couldn’t place the other. It was a cool, almost cold and emotionless voice that would’ve made Mac shiver if he’d been able to make his body move.

“You have to stop this,” John was saying. “You really did some damage this time, and not just to his neck. What were you thinking entering him with no preparation?”

“I wasn’t,” the cold voice replied. “I don’t know what happened, but I lost control like I never have before, and I loved it when he screamed.”

“When was the last time you were allowed to actually take care of yourself?”

“I do not know, my brother has kept me so busy since my return that it could have been months.”

“Which is why you’re having so many problems now; your glamour fading at odd times, loss of control and you said you couldn’t hold him with your eyes.”

“He should have felt nothing when I entered him,” the cold voice said. “It is possible he was not under as deeply as I thought.”

“Have your instincts ever failed you before?”

“No, no they have not. I think you are my, my dear one, I should travel to London whilst Mac sleeps. My brother will have to authorize a permit at this point so I do not do Mac more harm than he wishes.”

“Than he wishes?” John exclaimed.

“Oh yes, my dear, it seems Mac Taylor enjoyed it when I was wild the first night and desires to repeat it. Why should I deny him something he so obviously wants?”

“If he consents without gazing into your eyes then I shall say no more about it. But you know your brother would object to what you did today.”

“I know, and I shall hold nothing back when I see him. How many days will Mac sleep this time?”

“A week, unless something happens I don’t like, then I’ll keep him under longer,” John said. “His body has a lot of trauma to heal.”

“He is mine now,” the cold voice said sounding smug. “He shall never leave my side again.”

“And how do you think he’ll feel about that? How are you going to tell him that no one in New York or Miami remembers him? That he’s vanished as completely as Horatio Caine did?”

“I do not know, but he was torn between wanting to remain here with me and returning to New York,” the cold voice said. “This merely takes away the pain of having to choose.”

“You mean staying with Horatio,” John pointed out. “How do you think he’ll react when he learns the truth?”

“It no longer matters; he’s mine and won’t be able to leave, even if he wanted to.”

John sighed. “You are so insufferable at times.”

“And yet you still love me, even as you did all those years ago.”

“Even if there are times I wonder why.” There was a long pause with only the faint sounds of a deep kiss. “I have never regretted my choice.”

“Not even now?”

“No, not even now.”

“I’ll leave you the charm whilst I’m away so, if you wish, you can bed him and see what I mean.”

“We must give him a chance to heal first.”

“Of course, and I bow to your knowledge of the human body, doctor,” the cold voice said. “However, if he does heal, and you feel it safe, use the charm and experience first hand what we have been fortunate enough to acquire.”

“I know you have a heart in there, I have felt it beat many times, but there are days when I really wonder,” John said. “You speak of him as if he were a piece of art we’ve bought for the ballroom.”

The cold voice laughed. “My dearest one, Mac is a piece of art that neither of us could have anticipated,” he said. “He should be enjoyed and savored like the finest vintage, cared for as if the most priceless treasure in the British Museum, and used for some of the most intense pleasures in the world.”

“If I didn’t know better, I would say you are drunk,” John grumbled.

“Oh, but I am. Bed Mac Taylor, my dear, and you shall see exactly what has happened to me.”

“I seriously doubt that would be a good idea at the moment as one of us must remain sane. Make your trip to London, if you are not home by the time Mac awakens; I’ll make your excuses.”

“Or you could use the charm and he would never know.”

There was a small pause. “Do you think he can hear us?” John finally asked.

“It won’t matter, he will remember nothing when he awakens,” the cold voice replied. “If I could, I would erase all his memories of that blasted Horatio Caine and the so-called mystery that Calleigh brought him.”

“And yet you cannot; that alone is worrying.”

“I told my brother that Mac didn’t fall under the spell, that he still remembers Horatio.”

“What did he say?”

“The usual; I’m too reckless, I shouldn’t have gone to the states and created yet another worthless identity.”

“And when he calmed down?”

“How well you know him. He knows of no instance where a human has been able to throw a spell so easily. He feels it too risky to allow Mac back out into the world.”

“So he is to be a prisoner here?”

“He will not see it that way. Once I’m sure of his mind, I shall allow him to aid me in my work, and you said yourself he is in love with the library. In time, he may even be able to travel to London with me.”

“He will be in your bed every night.”

“Our bed, my dear. I am positive he will welcome us both.”

“What will happen when you tire of him?”

“I cannot imagine that I will, but he can be eliminated easily enough. He will age only if I so wish.”

“You won’t finish it then?”

“Not unless you both wish it,” the cold voice said. “But I cannot imagine we can hide the truth from him forever. He is far too smart for that, and it is likely he will start to fight me.”

“That could be dangerous.”

“You know what you must do if such an event occurs. I shall not be able to manage without your aid in this, my dear.”

John sighed. “It always seems like you only need my help for the messy cases,” he said. “Especially when you wish to break the law in some way.”

“I am the law.”

“There are those who would disagree with you.”

“Then they would be wrong.” There was a pause. “Do you really never regret your decision? I know I can be trying at times.”

“You’re trying all the time, but I knew that,” John said. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you and my only regret was not speaking up earlier than I did. We lost time together because of my fear.”

“And I was blind to your suffering then, I am not now. I know it pains you to see another in my bed. All you need do is say the word and he will be no more.”

“You know I cannot do that,” John scolded. “I hate it when you treat humans so casually, especially after they’ve developed feelings for you.”

“But as you’ve pointed out, my dear one, he loves Horatio Caine, not me, so why would it matter? I do not wish to do anything that would cause you pain.”

“Casual murder, no matter how well intentioned, causes me pain,” John sighed. “Leave for London in the morning and leave me the charm. I shall do as you suggest, and maybe I’ll become more attached to him after a night in his bed.”

“What if you do not?”

“Then we’ll just see what happens. I will not have you kill an innocent just to please me.”

“As you wish,” the ice cold voice said. “Then let us at least steal a few hours for ourselves before I leave for London.”


	7. Chapter 7

Mac woke up and realized two things. He was alone and he felt fine. He wasn’t sure why, but he thought that he should be in a lot of pain for some reason. The last thing he remembered was walking with Horatio out in the garden and talking about work and then there was just darkness. Mac didn’t have blackouts, which meant there was something very wrong. It felt like there was something he should know, and couldn’t figure out to save his life. A shudder ran through him at that thought and he realized that he needed to figure it out to save his life. He wasn’t sure why he knew he was in mortal danger, but he was.

Puzzled at being alone in the bed, but not overly worried as the position of the sun showed it was later in the day than he’d slept before - another sign something was wrong - he got up and dressed for the day. The first thing he was going to do was put that phone in the library to good use. 

He’d checked his cell phone and there was a signal in the house, but it fluctuated and Mac needed to be sure of the connection to get in touch with Stella. He wanted to see what was happening with the lab and if he needed to return to New York. Truthfully, as much as he wanted to stay with Horatio, he could feel his responsibilities calling to him and it was probably time to start thinking about going home.

The house and library were empty, which made Mac curious, but he shut the door behind him and sat down at the desk. The phone was slightly old fashioned, but there was a reassuring dial tone when Mac put the receiver to his ear and dialed a familiar number. “Crime lab.”

“Stella, it’s Mac.”

“Who?”

“Oh, come on Stella, quit kidding around,” Mac said. “I know I’ve been gone a while, but this isn’t a time to joke. I was just calling to see how everyone was doing.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know anyone named Mac,” Stella replied. “And I’m not sure how you know my name.”

Mac frowned. “Stella, I’m Mac Taylor. Your boss for the past ten years,” he said.

“No, I’m pretty sure I would remember that,” she said. “Maybe you should try talking to personnel. And I’m sorry, but we’re really busy right now so I have to go.”

The dial tone echoed in his ear and Mac stared at the phone in shock. He’d been forgotten. Forgotten.......just like Horatio was in Miami and New York. Mac put the phone down slowly and stared at the desk not really seeing it in front of him. The feeling he’d had when waking up was getting stronger, there was something seriously not right.

He stood and made his way into the morning room hoping to find Horatio there. “John.”

“Good morning, Mac,” the other man smiled putting down his paper. “How are you feeling this morning?”

“Where’s Horatio?” Mac asked.

“He’s in London for the day,” John replied easily. “His brother called and wanted to see him. And when his brother calls, he has to answer. Is there something I can do for you?”

“You can tell me what the hell is going on here,” Mac said. “I just called New York and it seems that they’ve never heard of me. I find it a little strange that Horatio just vanishes without a trace only to turn up in London just in time for me to see him and then as soon as I come to his house, the same thing happens with me.”

“Why don’t you sit down and have some breakfast?” John asked. “And I’ll see if I can explain what’s bothering you.”

Mac’s eyes narrowed for a moment at how calm the other man was even in the face of his accusations, and then sank into the chair that was next to him. “I’m not hungry.”

“You really should eat,” John said. “I know I always feel better when I have a good meal in me. Food can heal a lot of hurts.”

“I’m not hungry,” Mac repeated. “You know what’s going on. Tell me.”

John smiled. “I’m afraid that it won’t work on me, Mac,” he said. “I’ve seen far more frightening things than a pissed off Marine. And if this is how you interrogate your suspects, I wonder at your solve rate. I’m afraid that I would be screaming intimidation.”

“Either tell me now or I’ll go find Horatio. I don’t believe he’s in London.”

“He’s quite definitely in London,” John said. “And will be until this evening. I’m not sure what his brother wanted, but their conversations are rarely short.”

“His brother is dead,” Mac said.

For some reason John seemed to find that statement extremely amusing. He chuckled for several minutes before getting himself back under control. “Please do excuse me,” he said. “I’m sure I meant no insult. Mac, what’s the last thing you remember before you woke up in bed this morning?”

Mac was thrown by the change in direction. “What?”

“It’s a simple enough question.”

“I was out with Horatio in the gardens,” Mac said slowly. “We were talking about something and I think he kissed me, but I’m not sure about that.”

John nodded. “You tripped over a rather large tree root and hit your head,” he said. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a week, Mac, and we were talking about moving you into the city for better care than I could give you here.”

“You?”

“I have some medical training,” John said. “From when I was in the military. Horatio and I have been worried because you wouldn’t wake up and we were afraid there was brain damage even though there wasn’t any obvious wound.”

“Why didn’t you just take me to the hospital?” Mac asked. He didn’t believe a word of it, if only because his head didn’t hurt at all and he always had headaches after any kind of head injury. He didn’t think they would have just stopped on their own.

“I was planning to if you didn’t wake up by the time Horatio was home this evening,” John said. “I thought it was just a concussion and was keeping a close eye on you. And there obviously wasn’t anything worse wrong with you because you’re fine apart from some confusion and slight memory loss.”

Mac stared at the other man levelly. “I don’t buy a word of it,” he said.

“Maybe we should have you checked after all,” John said. “As you seem to have developed some paranoia and, as far as I know, that’s not a symptom of a head injury. Are you sure you won’t have some breakfast?”

“I’m sure.”

John studied him. “Mac, I have no reason to lie to you,” he said. “Neither does Horatio. This new development concerns me. I think we should take you to the doctor and make sure everything is okay. This isn’t normal.”

“I didn’t hit my head,” Mac said. “And you are lying to me. I just don’t know about what, yet.”

“Why me?” John muttered to himself as he watched Mac storm out of the room. He rubbed his eyes and stood. There was something he needed to get from his room, and some things he needed to set up. He just hoped Horatio wouldn’t be too upset with him when he got home that evening.  
************************

Mac stalked back up to the second floor and made a search of all the bedrooms. He didn’t know why Horatio would be hiding in one of them, but he had to start somewhere and as far away from John seemed to be as good a place as anywhere. The other man was lying to him about more than just what had happened to Mac and he wasn’t sure what purpose the lies had. He wondered if it was possible that Horatio had been lying to him since they met up in London. Was it possible that everything that had happened between them was a lie and Mac was a prisoner in the house for some reason. 

He stalked to the lower part of the house and started opening doors in as much order as he could. The rooms were empty but well kept, although Mac didn’t run into any of the servants. When he’d exhausted every part of the house that he’d seen, or knew was in use, his attention turned to the boarded up other wing. Horatio had said that it was unused, but if everything was a lie anyway, what was one more? Mac crossed the hall and started trying doors, finding them all locked. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but the locked doors at least lent credence to Horatio’s story that the wing was uninhabited. 

Then he heard the voices.

There was someone in one of the rooms. Mac quickly located the door and knelt down to study the lock. There wasn’t a key in it, but something had blocked up the lock because he couldn’t see into the room beyond. Feeling frustrated, Mac pressed his ear to the door to see what he could hear when there was a sharp sting in the back of his neck and everything went dark.  
*************************

The men in the room in the so-called unused wing heard the noise and paused in their conversation. “John,” the younger brother said. “I wonder what has happened now.”

The elder Holmes sighed. “It is that sick puppy that followed you home, Sherlock. I wish you would listen to reason and just get rid of him for good. You know far better than I the consequences should he learn of our true work here.”

“Mycroft, I will bow to you in almost all matters,” Holmes said. “However, until I am sure one way or the other, I shall deal with this myself.”

“And you accuse poor John of being far too sentimental,” Mycroft said. “I told you in London and I tell you here that Mac Taylor is a danger to us and our work, Sherlock, and I shall not rest easy until he is either restrained to my satisfaction or destroyed.”

“You do not know the man as I do. He would be a valuable addition to our network,” Holmes said. “But we should see what has happened, Mycroft, rather than sit here and debate without full possession of the facts.”

Mycroft nodded and stood, following his brother to the door. The younger Holmes slid two bolts back and entered a combination into the key lock before opening the door and walking out into a short hallway that connected to the entrance hall. No one was to ever see into the unused wing of the house. Those that did, died. 

Watson looked up when his lover and his lover’s elder brother entered the room. “There’s something wrong with him, Holmes,” he said. “Mac Taylor is becoming paranoid and unstable. I don’t know what else to do with him right now.”

“Thank you for taking such prompt action on our behalf,” Mycroft said. “I assume that he will sleep for a time?”

“A few hours,” Watson said. “If nothing else it will give us time to get him secured where no one else knows where he is and you can decide what you want to do with him.”

Holmes closed his eyes with a small sigh. “Mycroft, will you let me speak with him before you make your decision?” he asked. “It is possible that he can still be saved.”

“Very well, Sherlock, but this is the last time you are leaving to live under a different name. The complications are just growing far too vast and I have need of you here,” Mycroft said. “If you feel you must escape from England every hundred years or so, I’m sure I can find you a life to lead that will aid our empire and not cause such distressing problems.”

Holmes nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “Come, Watson. We must ensure that Mac is secure before he awakens.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Mac woke up for the second time that day he was in a room he didn’t recognize and, when he tried to sit up, he realized that he was secured to the bed in an extremely professional manner. He couldn’t move.

“Mac.”

“Horatio, what the hell is going on?” Mac demanded.

“You hit you head in the garden and have been unconscious,” Horatio replied. “And I had to leave you today to go and see my brother. John says that you’re having problems.”

“I didn’t hit my head,” Mac said. “I know that for a fact. I don’t have a headache of any kind and I always do when I get hit hard on the head. It’s a hold-over from the bombing I lived through years ago. I want to know why no one at my lab remembers me.”

“Mac, you don’t have a headache because John’s been giving you pain killers,” Horatio said. “Low doses so there’s no risk of addiction, of course, because John isn’t a big fan of drugs in the first place. He assures me that they’ll wear off in another hour or so. As to the lab, I don’t have any answers. Is it possible that they’re just playing a joke on you?”

“I spoke with Stella,” Mac said. “And she had no idea who I was. She also said they’re extremely busy, which means I need to go back, Horatio. It’s not fair of me to drop that level of work on them when I could be there helping them.”

Horatio turned to the side and studied Mac for a long moment. “Mac, I’m afraid you won’t be able to travel for at least another week with that head injury you suffered. John wants to take you into the city to be checked out and, after speaking with you, I think that’s a good idea. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“I’ve been drugged and tied to a bed,” Mac said dryly. “How would you be acting if you were in my place?”

“I am sorry about that,” John said from somewhere behind Mac. “But the unused wing of the house is extremely dangerous. We’ve rather let it fall into disrepair over the years and you were quite insistent that you had to search it. I was afraid you were going to hurt yourself, or me, and drugging you was my only option.”

“And you just happened to have drugs on you,” Mac said. “I’m still not buying it.”

“You are right, Horatio,” a cultured dry voice said, stumbling a little on the name, “he is quite the intelligent man. However, I can tell that there are small cancers growing on his brain and he is becoming quite unstable.”

Something seemed to go out of Horatio and he turned away from Mac. “Are you sure?”

“Have you ever known me to be wrong?” the voice asked. “I am sorry, but this is likely the result of his throwing the spells and your powers. I have seen this once before.”

“Yes, I recall the case,” Horatio replied. “So I suppose there is no reason to keep up the illusions any longer.”

“Only to keep him happy,” John said quickly. “But he seems more mad than puzzled now anyway, so I don’t think it will matter in the long term.”

Mac glared at Horatio’s back. “What are you all talking about?” he demanded.

“You are dying, sir,” the dry voice said. A large man walked into Mac’s line of vision and leaned down to study him closely. “But I do hope you shall take some comfort in knowing that you are one of the most extraordinary men I have had the pleasure to meet. If only for so short a period of time.”

“Who are you?” Mac demanded.

“Horatio’s brother,” the man said, again stumbling slightly on the name.

“You’re lying.”

“Well, slightly. I congratulate you, sir, on your intelligence. It is such a shame that we have to let you die, but there is no cure for the condition you are now suffering. And it wouldn’t do to have doctors prodding into our business.”

Horatio turned back. “This is my brother, Mac. He’s always been rather more brain that intelligence, though I’m sure he would say the same about me,” he said. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Mac. I really thought that you would be safe in New York with everyone else, having forgotten all about me when I left. This is the first time anyone has remembered me after I chose to leave, and we’ve only seen one other person so immune to our powers.” He reached out and cupped Mac’s cheek softly. “And he died a raving lunatic in more pain than we were able to overcome. I promise you that I shall never let you come to that point.”

“How do you plan to save him?” John asked.

Sad blue eyes looked up. “I don’t.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Mac said. “Just to get me out of the way. How many people have you murdered, Horatio?”

“You shouldn’t ask questions like that, Mac,” Horatio said. “Brother, will you at least grant me this?”

“I will. He is far further gone than I had expected. Do what you must and then I will take over from there. And I trust that this shall be an important lesson to you.”

Horatio nodded. “John, is it safe?”

“Yes, the drugs will all be out of his system by now. Do you wish me to remain?”

“Please.”

Mac struggled to get away from Horatio. “Did I ever even know you?” he demanded.

“I know you won’t believe me, Mac, but I had planned to let you help me in my work when I realized that you still remembered me. I never wanted it to come to this. Or, if it had to, to take years.”

“You’re lying.”

“Should I show him?” Horatio asked.

“It’s your choice,” Mycroft replied. “It isn’t as if he shall be able to tell anyone. But you might just scare him more and drive him farther from you that he is now.”

Horatio seemed torn for a moment and then it was as if a mist formed around him, blocking him from Mac’s view. When the mist cleared a tall, thin pale man stood in Horatio’s place. He was staring at Mac with piercing gray eyes that seemed to take him apart in unpleasant and painful ways. “Horatio Caine was never alive,” he said. “He was a figment of everyone imagination. I am, well, perhaps I shant tell you my true name as you would call me a liar. Consider that I am the last court of appeal for those who act against the British empire.”

“There is no British empire,” Mac said. “And you’re crazy.”

“That is as we wish you to believe.” The man smiled. “I have been protecting the empire with my brother and lover for one hundred and thirty years, and we shall protect it for as many more years as is required of us. However, every so often I find there are no tasks to occupy my mind and I leave for another country and live under an assumed name and identity. My latest was Horatio Caine, and it is to your misfortune that your mind is almost on an equal to his.”

“So you kidnapped me.”

“For a time you would have been free to go, until we realized exactly what had happened. We planned to keep you here, alive and as Horatio’s lover for as long as you were happy, but my brother realized that you were growing ill. The last time we had this issue, he was more heavily involved in it than I, so he would know more. I must bow to his wisdom in this.”

“You are a murderer.”

“They feel no pain when they die,” Holmes said. “I make sure of that. Just as you felt no pain any time I entered your body. John put you into a healing sleep each time and reprimanded me quite harshly for my treatment of you. I fear that I am much like my brother. I have no real understanding of human emotions and feelings. There I rely on my dearest John to aid me. He monitored you closely this time and felt there was reason for contacting my brother. It seems that his fears were justified.”

“I still don’t understand.” Mac pulled against the bindings. “None of this makes sense.”

Holmes grinned. “I am trying to spare your delicate feelings,” he said. “But I suppose this is hopeless as well.” He sighed. “Very well. I shall show you my true form.”

Mac watched in growing horror as sharp fangs appeared in the strange man’s mouth, extending down until they were touching below his bottom lip. “We are vampires,” Holmes said. “Immortal beings who protect the empire from all threats, as we have since we were created in Victoria’s age. My magic is the reason that everyone in the states forgot Horatio Caine when I left. Only you remembered him. Time and again you have managed to defeat my magic and each time caused a cancer to grow in your brain. The result is paranoia and, eventually death. I do not love you. As Horatio I spoke what words you wanted to hear, even when I was unsure if you could hear me or not. There is only one I love and he has stood by me in spite of my failings for many long years. But I could see what an asset you would be to our organization and hoped to cultivate you, as I have others in the past. But now it is far too late. The cancers grow, we can all sense it. I have too much respect for your mind to allow you to suffer such an undignified end.”

“Who are you?” Mac demanded shrinking away from the fangs. He didn’t believe in vampires, but it was hard to ignore such evidence when it was right in front of him.

“My name,” Holmes sighed. “You would insist on that at the end.” He leaned in and pressed his lips against Mac’s neck, letting the fangs trail over the jugular vein. “I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

Mac screamed as the fangs pierced his neck and everything went black.  
*********************

Holmes and Watson spent the evening in the library by the fire, even though it wasn’t cold out. Old habits died hard and they enjoyed sitting across from each other, even as they had all those long years ago in Baker Street. “Such a waste,” Holmes said. He sipped the brandy he was holding. “Such a fine mind.”

“Do you find it strange that the only other to throw yours and Mycroft’s powers and end up with the tumors on their brain had minds intelligent enough to rival your own?” Watson asked. “I realize that Moriarty was more of a problem that Mac, but you have to admit that, for intelligence, they were both remarkable.”

“Indeed they were,” Holmes said. “And it’s possible that there is something to be learned from Mac’s brain, as there was from Moriarty’s. Brother Mycroft shall let us know, in time, when he has studied the evidence sufficiently.”

“And now?”

“We go back to what we do best, my dear Watson. And, as I said, we shall continue to do so until there is no longer a need for us in this world.”

Watson put his glass down and moved until he was sitting on Holmes’s lap. “Then I think that we shall be alive for a very long time indeed.”

Holmes smiled and pulled Watson down for a kiss. “Then we shall just have to learn to survive these bleak and boring evenings, my dear Watson.”


End file.
